


Our Memories

by Alyoops



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Bisexual Hermione Granger, F/F, Lesbian Ginny Weasley, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Movie(s), Post-Second War with Voldemort, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9903041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyoops/pseuds/Alyoops
Summary: It's been eight years since Harry defeated Voldermort. The magical world is settling back to normal. But the trio have drifted apart, and things aren't always clean cut. What should be a routine dark wizard investigation, brings Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny into a dark plot where friends become enemies and enemies become friends. Can they survive what lies ahead? Will their relationships ever be the same?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm real bad at summaries guys, sorry! Hopefully, the body of work makes up for it.

Tired. 

That’s what McCreery felt. Tired from the long walk to his house from the broom factory he kept clean. Tired of the pitying looks he got from others that he passed by. Tired of having to look over his shoulder to make sure those looks didn’t turn into glares if they figured out who he was.

How did his life become like this? He used to be somebody. A proud member of the Snatchers. He even met the Dark Lord once. A story he was all too happy to share if he was in the right company and a drink was offered. A story that became more grandiose as time went on, that he would ever admit that. (Currently, it was a handshake and praise of his skills that he focused on.)

Now he was brought down to taking scraps from half-breeds and sympathizers. He couldn’t even trust former Death Eaters. Those few who weren’t tucked away in Azkaban at any rate. He had given up too much information just to keep himself out of that accursed place.

With one last furtive glance, McCreery walked up to his door. A flick of his wand and the enchantments on the door were undone. He pulled out his keys to take care of the 5 physical locks next. One could never be too careful. Quickly stepping inside, he re-locked everything and set out to pour himself some fire whiskey.

_ Knock knock knock. _

McCreery scowled. He couldn’t believe his luck, barely got the cork off and already he’s being bothered in his own home. What he wouldn’t do to use a Fidelius Charm, but he had no one he could trust to be his Secret Keeper.

_ Knock knock. _

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Realizing he wouldn’t just be able to ignore them, McCreery went to the peephole, wand at the ready, just in case. He saw a distraught-looking, blond woman in a simple black coat. She was already ready to knock again when McCreery rasped out, “Go away!”

The woman seemed more glad than frightened at the gruff voice. “Please sir! My car broke down, and my phone is dead. I need to use yours to let my family know where I am.”

He didn’t understand half the words she said. Probably a muggle, which he did  _ not _ need to deal with right now.

“I ain’t takin’ no visitors!”

Unfortunately, for him, she was undeterred.

“Please,” she pleaded, “I took what I thought was a shortcut and my family have no idea where I am. They didn’t even know I was coming to visit them, just kind of a surprise trip really, and I live on the other side of the country. If I don’t contact them, they’ll never be able to find me.”

McCreery, paused at this. “No one knows where you are?”

She shook her head. “No one. Please can you help me?”

He smiled. A poor helpless muggle all alone? Maybe his luck was starting to turn around. No reason he couldn’t have a little “fun” with this one.

“Of course. Come on in.”

The woman sighed in relief, probably mistaking his lewd tone for kindness. McCreery, set down his wand to undo the physical locks. He stepped aside as he swung the door open to let her in.

“Thank you so much, you are a lifesaver.” She walked in towards the living room, her eyes darting about the area, taking in her surroundings. She seemed rather calm for someone who was distressed not a minute ago.

“No problem,” he turned around to get his wand when he was suddenly thrown into the wall by some unknown force. Dazed, he looked up to see the woman, her face determined, her hand pointed towards him.

_ *SLAM* _

With a flick of her wrist he was thrust into the opposite wall. McCreery made a half-hearted attempt at getting up and defending himself, but the stone-faced woman pulled her arm back, slamming him into a dresser as if he was attached by invisible cords to her movements. His body crumpled to the floor as he finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

 

***

 

McCreery came to, his eyes slowly opening to the sight of the mysterious woman at a table in front of him, fiddling with some knobs and dials on a strange, metal contraption. Every so often she checked a black, leather-bound book open beside her while she rubbed a small pendant around her neck, as if it was a ritual for her. He noticed she had taken off her jacket, and was now just in a simple black tee and a pair of black dress pants. Another thing he noticed is that he was bound to a chair, something he realized when he attempted to move his arms tied behind his back. The sudden movement caught the woman’s attention.

“Ah! My gracious host is awake,” she smiled. She made some last few adjustments to the device in front of her. “How’s the head?”

“Fuck you!”

“Still smarts then?” she said with a slight Irish lilt. “Well, no worries, in a few moments you won’t feel it any longer. ‘Course you won’t be feeling much of anything, but that’s besides the point.”

Seemingly finished with her work on the contraption, she grabbed her book and made her way over to McCreery. Not one to be intimidated, he decided to fight back, if not with magic, then at least with words.

“Do you have anything who you are dealing with? I have some very powerful friends who will be most upset about what you’ve done to me.”

The mysterious woman just grinned knowingly.

“Oh I know exactly who you are.” She opened her book and flipped through a few pages until she came to the page she was searching for. “Arnold McCreery. Former Snatcher to the Death Eaters, very imaginative names, “ she rolled her eyes, “complicit in no less than 15 deaths, 28 kidnappings, and one count of attempting to duel with a lamp post while drunk.” She paused to give him a withering look, while McCreery just glared. “Gave valuable information to the Ministry, leading to the capture of six high-ranking Death Eaters, in a bid to secure his own freedom. Ooh, I bet they weren’t too happy with you after that. So no, I don’t believe anyone will be coming to help you tonight, Mr. McCreery.” She lowered her face to his and stared into his eyes, daring him to deny any of what she said.

McCreery, for his part, just grunted.

“What is it that you want from me?” He didn’t see what this supposed witch was getting at.

The mysterious woman straightened up and began walking back towards the device. “Oh what any middle aged woman wants in this world, I suppose. A good book, a place to call home, one of those iPod things, those seem pretty cool.” She paused in front of the contraption. He could see her take in a deep breath as if preparing herself, then turned back towards McCreery. “But as for you, well, you have something I need.” She flipped a switch on the device, causing it to begin to hum. As she picked up a needle and hose connected to the object, the hum grew in intensity.

“I’m afraid this isn’t going to be pleasant.”


	2. Chapter 1

Harry Potter awoke to the sound of loud knocking on his door. He checked the clock on the wall to see what ungodly hour the interloper decided to rouse him from his sleep.  _ 6:18 _ . Well, not as bad as it could be he supposed. Fumbling for his glasses in the dark, he managed to grab them without breaking them, for once, and set out to answer the door. He caught the man mid-knock as he swung the door open. The young man’s eyes widened briefly, before he recomposed himself and cleared his throat.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Mr. Potter, but I’m here to escort you to Auror Jarvis.”

Harry sighed. This was not the start of what he’d call a great day. “This couldn’t wait until a more reasonable hour? Say, tomorrow?”

The young man shifted nervously on the spot unsure how to respond.

“That was a joke, Sam,” Harry deadpanned.

Sam nervously chuckled, still unsure of himself. Harry sighed internally. Sam was a good kid, but he had trouble loosening up around Harry. Despite being 8 years since the end of the Second Wizarding War, some people still treated Harry like this… reverent figure. It was starting to wear on him a bit. He missed just being part of the group. And with Hermione busy with Department of Mysteries work, Neville teaching at Hogwarts, and Ron busy with his own case load, it had been awhile since he had being able to just relax properly. There used to be Ginny as well but…

“Sorry, Mr. Potter, but Mr. Jarvis said it was quite important for you to come now,” Sam interrupted Harry’s thoughts. Shaking his head of any further thoughts, Harry nodded to Sam.

“Alright, let me grab my cloak and wand.”

Once Harry was properly dressed, he grabbed Sam’s arm and was apparated straight to their destination. It was a small shack by the looks of it. Not well kept up, though that could be attributed to the smashed-in dresser and dented walls from what he assumed was a struggle of some sort. Oh, and the dead body still tied to a chair in the middle of the room. That wasn’t doing it any favors either. The man appeared to be late forties; greasy, black hair peppered with some grays. He looked… drained. It was the only way to describe it. Everything seemed intact, but there was something about his face that looked off, some hint towards how he died.

Harry approached Heath Jarvis, who was observing the victim, spelling a quill to write his notes on the crime scene.

“Heath.”

“Harry,” Heath nodded. “Thanks for coming.”

“You could have at least waited until I had my morning tea,” Harry groused. Heath just chuckled at his annoyance.

“Yeah, but then you’d miss out on all this fun.” He gestured towards Sam, who was now checking out the scene with the other Aurors, searching for any residual energy to see what curses were used. “Did the Fan give you any trouble?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that.” Harry wasn’t in the mood of Jarvis’s brand of wit today. “He’s a good kid.” Harry glanced over to Sam, who was now pointing his wand a broken lamp, to see if it might have been hit by a spell. Harry knew he had a good head on his shoulders, and was a decent Auror in his own right. He just needed to lose his naivety, a thought Harry desperately wished he didn’t have just now. “He’s just…”

“Just afraid to ask for your autograph,” Heath smiled. Harry merely grunted in response.

Harry decided to change the subject. “So what is it we’ve got here.”

Heath looked to his notes. “You are looking at one Arnold McCreery. Ex-follower of You-Know-Who. Had a run in with a couple of walls and a dresser, as you can see. Then was tied up and had… something done to him. Still trying to figure that part out. Whatever it was it looks like it was so painful he vomited.” He pointed to a stain on the floor, from where the man had gotten sick.

“Why do I recognize that name?” Harry murmured.

“He gave up a few names to save his own skin. Some high ranking officials in the inner circle.”

“Yes, I remember being on a few of those raids. Was it a killing curse?”

Heath shook his head. “We’re not entirely sure what killed him. No curses seem to have been used, though there is certainly residual magic all around. That’s another thing…”

“What?”

“It’s not... focused. You probably never have dealt with this, but it’s like when the rare time we have to step in when a child uses magic without a wand. It permeates every where, sometimes leading to unintentional harm.”

“Well, it certainly seems like harm was the intention of our attacker.” Harry took a close look at the body until he spotted something. “What’s this?” He pointed to a small puncture wound on the neck.

“Seems like a small bug bite.”

“Could it be a vampire?”

“Doubt it, victim still has all of his blood.”

Harry stood up, taking out his wand from his robes. He pointed it at McCreery’s body and looked back towards the other Auror. “May I?”

“Be my guest,” he shrugged.

Harry focused himself on McCreery, searching for some remnant of what curse was used on him. Nothing seemed to be there. Furrowing his brow, he concentrated harder. He could sense the magic around the flat. Tethers of energy here and there, leading to the damage on the walls and furniture, but not a single bit of magic was used on McCreery it seemed. No, it was more than that. It was almost like… “Huh.”

“You find something?”

Harry stowed his wand. “No, there’s nothing.”

Heath shrugged. “That’s what we came up with too. Whatever was done to him wasn’t magical it looks like.”

“No, I mean there is  _ nothing _ ,” Harry shook his head. “Not a single trace of magic is around him. Even if a curse wasn’t used, he should still have some residual magic, if only from his own magical affinity.”

Heath’s eyes widened, before he took out his own wand to confirm. “My god, you’re right. How did we miss that? Must be those special Chosen One powers,” he smirked.

Harry scowled. His patience had about run out today. He needed to get out of here before he had to deal with anymore of the Auror’s needling. “Well, it looks like you have everything else handled here. I’ll be off.” He needed something to eat and something caffeinated if he was going to be of any use for the rest of the day. With a wave to his colleagues, he apparated away once outside.  

 

***

 

It was around 8:30 once he had been properly nourished. He didn’t have much to do at the Ministry today, but it was still too early to head to Andromeda’s place so he decided to head to his office to catch up on some parchment-work. He entered the lobby just as the morning rush was getting underway. Men and women exited Flus and towards their respective departments. As he passed through the Atrium, he slowed down to appreciate the fountain. After the Second War, the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had the garish display that Voldemort had set up torn down. They were going to replace it with the old statues, the repugnant display of wizards being venerated by “lesser” magical creatures. Until Hermione started campaigning to have a monument that was more inclusive. Harry had signed the petition, though avoided any protests, he really didn’t want to be out in public that much at the time. He was happy that she had Ginny to help her. Harry shook his head at the memory. He didn’t want to think about that now, the memory too painful. 

Harry set off for the elevators, squeezing himself into a particularly crowded car. He fought his way out once we got to the Auror department. Here it was less crowded. Most Auror’s were usually out in the field, and even more preferred to take their work home, rather than sit in an office for hours.

Passing by Ron’s office, Harry didn’t even bother to check to see if he was in yet. He knew it was much too early for his best friend to have rolled out of bed. Smiling ruefully, Harry also knew that Ron would take his time getting to his office. Ron had a stack of parchments half as tall as he was, waiting to be completed and filed away.  _ Some things never change _ , he mused.

 

***

 

It was almost lunch time when he heard a knock at his door. Harry had managed to finish up some of his closed cases, and was perusing the cause of death report from the McCreery file, when the interruption occurred. He looked up to see Devon Thorburn. Devon had been a senior Auror when Harry first started out, and took him under his wing. He was invaluable to Harry during this first few months, especially when everything was still so… overwhelming. 

“Hello Devon.” Harry rolled up the parchment he was reading and stowed it in his desk. “What can I do for you?”

“Harry,” Devon grinned. “Heard about the McCreery case from this morning. I hope Jarvis wasn’t giving you too much guff.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Devon knew as well as anyone how Heath could get under anyone’s skin. “Just the usual needling. I don’t figure you came here just to check up on me?” Devon knew Harry could handle things like this on his own now. Though he did appreciate to have the support of a Senior Auror.

Devon frowned. “I need to ask you a favor.”

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. Devon wasn’t usually hesitant to ask of something from him. Usually it was only things like a help with a lead or perhaps taking on an extra case to share the load, which Harry was all but happy for the distraction. Perhaps this was more serious than that?

“I need you to talk with the acting head of the Department of Mysteries.”

Ah. So it would be incredibly awkward then.

“Why do you need me to talk to her?”

“She’s been causing quite a ruckus with a certain case,” Devon explained. “Her predecessor died in an accident a few years back, and Ms. Granger keeps insisting that we reopen the file.”

Harry remembered hearing about the accident two years ago. The former Minister of Mysteries had an experiment she was working on that ended badly. The details were sparse, but by all accounts it had been a clear cut case of magic gone awry with no foul play involved.

“Why would she want it reopened?” Harry knew Hermione wasn’t one to do things rashly. If she wanted a case reopened, she probably had a good reason. At least, in her mind. He also knew she was stubborn, which would make his task impossible if he was meant to convince her to drop the case.

“She’s convinced herself that it couldn’t be an accident. Keeps ranting about how ‘Neve McGill was too skilled to be done in by simple accidental magic.’” Devon rubbed the back of his head, a nervous habit Harry noticed whenever he was uncomfortable. “I’m not saying you need to convince her to see reason. But at least let her know, if she continues harping on it, a lot of the higher ups are not going to take it kindly. She may lose her position within in the Ministry.”

“I don’t know, Devon,” Harry answered. “We haven’t exactly kept in touch for some time.”

“I’m sure a few months…”

“Three years,” Harry interrupted. “That was probably the last time we’ve really talked.” There had been small conversations here and there. They worked in the same building, so running into each other was bound to occur. But they had been awkward and stilted. Hermione always looked like she was guilty of something when he tried to talk to her. He wasn’t sure if it was because of her and Ron’s break-up, but he didn’t feel like she needed to apologize for anything. He didn’t like seeing Ron upset, but he would rather work on staying friends with both of them than choose sides.

“Ah, well…” Devon trailed off, resuming his uncomfortable stance. “Well what better way to break the ice…”

“Then to demand she stop doing something she believes in?” Harry finished for Devon. “I’m not exactly sure that’s a great way for us to reacquaint ourselves.”

“Then implore upon her, that her job is at stake. I’m sure Miss Granger would appreciate you looking out for her, even after all these years.”

Clearly, Devon didn’t know Hermione all that well. Harry sighed. “Look, I’ll talk to her.” He did want to do at least that, even if it was for different reasons. “But I can’t make any promises about the results.”

“That’s all I ask,” Devon nodded. “Thank you, Harry. Really. I owe you for this, you have no idea.”

Harry hummed in response. He didn’t really see it as something dire on Devon’s part, but he wasn’t about to argue the point. They parted their separate ways as Harry made for the lifts. Wandering a bit at the Department of Mysteries, Harry realized that he had no earthly idea where Hermione’s office was or even how to find it. He supposed he would send a memo to have her meet him, or go to her flat but then he would run into…

Harry shook his head. That would only make things more awkward, he was sure. He decided to return to his office to send a memo when we ran smack into the person he was looking for. It seemed she hadn’t been looking where she was going as well. She stutters an apology, but cuts herself off midway when she looks at the man in front of him, eyes widening in recognition.

“Harry!”

“Hey, Hermione,” Harry grins sheepishly.

Hermione took a second to compose herself before she stuttered out a “H-How are you?”

“I’m… “ Harry paused on how honest to be at the moment. “...good.”  He settled on ‘slightly’.

He could tell Hermione didn’t fully believe him, she was perceptive like that, but she choose to ignore it for now it seemed. “That’s good. What are you doing here?” Hermione winced. “I-I don’t mean it like that. Sorry. I just mean, not many come down to the Department of Mysteries unless they have business here…”

Harry decided to save her from her rambling. “I was asked to come down here to speak to you actually.”

“To me?”

Harry nodded. “Apparently, they want me talk you out of reopening the McGill case.”

Hermione’s eyes hardened. “So you came down here just to be a lackey for the Aurors? If they think they can just sweep this under…”

“Actually,” Harry suppressed his irritation at the accusation. It wasn’t the best way to start things off after so long. “I was wondering what your side of it was.” He knew she wasn’t one to take things lightly, and he was genuinely curious why Hermione was fighting for a case from almost two years ago.

Hermione’s gaze softened. She seemed contrite at her outburst and cleared her throat. “Oh well… thank you.” She looked around them for a moment before gesturing back to the entrance. “Not here though. Care to get lunch with me at the canteen?”

Harry thought she sounded hopeful. Perhaps this was a good idea after all. He motioned for her to lead the way and they made their way to the Ministry’s cafeteria.

Once they had gotten their food and settled at a table near the back, Hermione began explaining her case.

“Ok, so there’s technically not a lot I can tell you because Neve was an Unspeakable…”

“Even after her death?” Harry cut in.

“The laws are very strict Harry,” Hermione admonished, much like when he or Ron didn’t know some random fact brought up in one of their classes. “The experiments we run in the Department of Mysteries are... “ she seemed to struggle on what to say. “Dangerous. Especially if they fall into the wrong hands.”

“Ok, so what  _ can _ you tell me?”

Hermione thought a moment. “Neve was incredibly meticulous in her research and filing. She never left a detail out, and her notes were extensive.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Harry quipped.

Hermione smirked. “Yes, well it’s probably why we got on so well. Well,  _ one  _ of the reasons anyway.” She looked thoughtful for a second and then shook her head. “Anyway, when I became acting head, all of her files and notes went to me. So I decided to check out her records on the experiment that supposedly killed her, but when I read it, it was like it was written by a completely different person. Just a quick summary, good enough for whoever might glance over it in an investigation. And then there was the Auror report on her death…”

“What about it?”

Hermione looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping, but no one was paying any attention to them. “It was definitely doctored. A decent job at it for sure, but not unnoticeable if you know what to look for. I’m guessing some details were expunged that probably points to what  _ really _ happened.”

Harry’s eyes widened at her accusation. “Hermione. That would imply that an Auror willfully tampered with an investigation.”

“Yes,” she said, matter of factly. “Or perhaps even someone higher up. It’s tough to say, but definitely someone who would have access to the original report.”

He shook his head. The idea that someone is covering up the possible murder of a high ranking Ministry official was unthinkable. And dreadfully reminiscent of when Voldemort was in power. “You’re suggesting that there’s some grand conspiracy for… what exactly?”

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t think it is that dire. It really would only require one or two people with access to Auror reports to edit it. And I’ve been making such a fuss that if it was actually something that big, I probably would have been attacked by now.”

Harry blinked at Hermione’s casual tone about being a target. We began to admonish her but she was quick to cut him off.

“I know how to take care of myself, Harry,” she smiled. “I helped us hide in a forest for months from Death Eaters, I think I can handle this. I’ve taken every precaution to protect myself and Gin-” she stopped short, realizing who she was talking to. She looked away and her voice grew quiet. “Myself and those around me, I mean.”

They were right back to that awkward tension from earlier. Harry wasn’t sure what made Hermione shut in on herself. He thought they were actually getting back to what it was like before. What had changed? Before he could think of anything to say, however, they were interrupted by a voice behind them.

“Uhh… Hey, Harry.”

The two wizards turned around to see Ron Weasley awkwardly standing behind them. It seems he had noticed their conversation in the cafeteria and took the opportunity to join them.

Hermione stood up fast, nearly knocking over the chair she was using. “Ron! It’s… It’s good to see you.”

They both stood there, unsure how to greet each other. Both Ron and Hermione looked like they were about to hug each other, but changing their minds, decided on a stiff handshake and a shaky pat on the shoulder, respectively.

“Hi, Ron,” Harry cleared his throat. “Would you care to join us?”

Ron looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione, nervously. “Oh well, I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

“No, no, not at all, please.” Hermione moved her chair over so Ron could sit between the two of them. They once again, settled into an uncomfortable silence.

“Sooo... “ Ron turned towards Harry. “How have you been?”

“We saw each other yesterday, Ron,” Harry deadpanned.

“Right, right.” He shifted in his seat. “And, you… Hermione?”

Hermione seemed to be holding back a laugh at Ron’s nervousness. Despite everything that happened between them, it did seem like she missed his antics. “I’ve been well, Ron. Been keeping busy at the Department of Mysteries.”

“Yes, Mum said she heard as much when you visited last with Ginny.”

Hermione’s face fell, and flicked her eyes towards Harry. There was that guilty look again. Harry hated it, and attempted to ease the tension. “How is Ginny?” At Hermione’s muscles tensing, he added, “It’s fine, Hermione really. I’m not going to become all melancholy every time her name is mentioned.”

Hermione’s shoulders dropped in relief, though not completely. “She’s good. She’s taking a break from the Harpies this year. Wanted to rest her shoulder from when she took a Beater last winter.”

“You and her are still roommates then?” asked Ron. A flicker of of something Harry couldn’t identify passed in Hermione’s eyes. It seemed to make her tense up again, but he couldn’t figure out why.

“We are still living together, yes.” she said slowly. “Actually, I do need to head back home now. I was only in today to double-check some notes of mine.”

“Will you be going to the Tonks’ this afternoon?” Harry asked. Despite everything, he knew Ginny and Hermione had still kept in touch with everyone else, and Teddy would love to see them.

“Unfortunately, no,” Hermione frowned. “I had something this afternoon that was impossible for me to move around. We went earlier this morning though, and dropped off our presents.”

Ron’s brow furrowed. “We?”

“Ginny and I.”

“Ah, so, Ginny won’t be going then either, I take it?” Harry knew it was a long shot to see her in any case, but he had hoped.

Hermione gave him a sad look. “No, sorry Harry.” She seemed to waffle a bit before blurting out, “Why don’t we all have dinner at our place sometime? The four of us.”

Both Harry and Ron were shocked at the sudden invitation. It wasn’t unwelcome, they just never expected to be invited over so quickly.

“I’d like that,” Harry smiled. “It’d be good to catch up again. You in, Ron?”

“I’m game if you are.” Harry could tell he was trying to play it cool, but he knew Ron was still holding a flame for Hermione.

“Fantastic! I’ll owl you once I work out the details? Or send a memo, not sure if that’s proper use of Ministry facilities, but it’s quicker and it  _ would _ save on post…”

“Or, you could just come visit us at the Aurors offices,” Harry interrupted. Beside him, he heard Ron snicker.

“Yes, of course. That would be easier.” Hermione chuckled at herself. “Have a good one, you two.” She gathered his things and began to walk away when Harry thought of something.

“Oh Hermione!” Hermione looked back at Harry, tilting her head in curiosity. “About that other thing… I can look into it on my end, if you’d like. See what I can dig up?”

Hermione nodded, smile growing on her face. “Thank you Harry.” Her eyes flicked to Ron. “And feel free to bring inform Ron as well. I trust the both of you.” With that she was off.

Ron looked to Harry confused. “What was that all about?”

Harry took a deep breath, knowing this was going to be a long one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos always appreciated! Let me know what you guys think!


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